


Harmonics

by CerysKitty



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Size Difference, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 01:09:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/742341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CerysKitty/pseuds/CerysKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a kinkmeme prompt.</p><p>Cyclonus and Tailgate are having a lazy morning on a day off, teasing each other and relaxing. When Cyclonus unintentionally begins to talk in Primal Vernacular, their morning quickly takes a more interesting turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harmonics

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a response to this prompt, but I got so carried away with it, it ended up only vaguely similar to what was asked for. In an attempt to properly fill the prompt, I quickly typed this up :3
> 
> I did post the other fill, and that can be found if you check my fic list on here~
> 
> The prompt in question was:
> 
> Tailgate and Cyclonus are having a relaxing off-shift, teasing and exploring each other when, in the heat of the moment, Cyclonus slips back into their native language: the Primal Vernacular. Hearing it just spoken again -- and not only that, but hearing it as teasing dirty talk purred at him from Cyclonus -- drives Tailgate into writhing-under-Cyclonus, please-don't-stop heights of needy arousal... and matching Cyclonus word for filthy word.
> 
> ...
> 
> I hope it's obvious, but the bolded text means they're speaking in Primal Vernacular :3

Their quarters were dim in the early start of the on-shift, both Cyclonus and Tailgate happy to doze and relax on their recreational day. They still lay twined together from where they fell into recharge the night before, both so exhausted after interface that they'd barely managed to pull apart and wipe up the worst of the mess before falling offline; it had't bothered him last night, but as Tailgate shifted slightly he kind of wished they'd taken a little more time to clean up, his thighs sticking together slightly uncomfortably.

 

Still, he could't bring himself to care too much, not when he was still snuggled next to his larger room mate, sleepily tracing along the seams on the broad chest in front of him, and avoiding powering up fully as long as possible. He was haphazardly tracing a glyph for ' _admiration_ ' on the plating in front, when a low rumble signalled Cyclonus powering up slightly, and he was roughly pulled closer so that the large mech could nuzzle at his helm.

 

If any of the crew ever saw how docile Cyclonus could be in the mornings, or after a good overload, Tailgate was sure they'd probably all seize up and glitch.

 

Sighing happily as he relaxed into he large warm frame, Tailgate began his light petting again, absent-mindedly drawing more glyphs onto his room mate, ' _strength_ ', ' _attractive_ ' and anything else that sprang to mind. He was halfway through ' _powerful_ ' when Cyclonus mumbled above him, revving lowly when he realised what the minbot was writing on him.

 

Humming in response, Tailgate smirked to himself a little before deciding to tease a little, softly running his digits over the frame, making sure Cyclonus was relaxed and unsuspecting before he traced ' _big_ ', the particular glyph having the additional strokes and subtle flicks to imply it was definitely to do with the mech's spike rather than anything else. At the slight hitch of vents he continued, elaborately drawing out complex words for ' _dominating_ ', ' _sexy_ ' among others, hesitating slightly before he traced out ' _beautiful_ ' as well.

 

He continued for a short time, enjoying how his touch made the frame wrapped around him heat in response, the glyphs slowly becoming more intricate and suggestive as he went. He'd just finished ' _love your frame over me_ ' when he was hugged closer again, Cyclonus' deep voice vibrating through him.

 

'I obviously did not wear you out enough last night.' Tailgate merely trilled in reply, about to start up his touches again before suddenly they were rolling, and he was looking up at the dim optics of a sleepy, yet aroused Cyclonus. Cheekily, he tried to move his digit up ti touch again, but the larger mech just smirked, grabbing both servos with his own and pinning then above Tailgate's head, shifting until he was holding them with one, using the other to support himself. 'Well aren't you in a playful mood this morning.'

 

'Is it a problem?' Sneakily, Tailgate brought his pede up to drag along the front of Cyclonus' interface array, their difference in frame size meaning he didn't have to contort himself to do it, even if it did usually mean actual interface could sometimes be awkward.

 

Cyclonus didn't answer him, optics merely flashing then darkening again before he bent down to lave teasing licks along the minibot's neck cables, biting lightly when Tailgate started to moan and writhe. Eventually, he released the other's servos so that he could trace and dip into the seams along Tailgate's sides, though he hummed in pleasure himself when the smaller mech took the opportunity to run his servos up Cyclonus' remaining horn, whilst carefully worshipping the remains of the other.

 

' **Mm, touch a little harder.'**  Tailgate froze at the mumbled words, and Cyclonus pulled back to look down at him oddly, until he realised that he'd spoken in the old language, Primal Vernacular, though he couldn't work out why the minibot had frozen up so. 'Is something wrong?' It took Tailgate a moment to realise he was being spoken to, too busy feeling shocked at the sudden shoot of pleasure when Cyclonus had spoken those words.

 

'I-no! No! Talk, I mean speak like that again-Old Cybertronian I mean…' he trailed off, fully aware that he probably wasn't making much sense.

 

' **Like this, you mean?** ' The quick rev from Tailgate's engine, even as the minibot stared blankly up at him was answer enough, and Cyclonus caught on quickly. ' **Hmm, you like this do you? Is it just my voice, or the words I speak with it?'**  Tailgate's vents hitched and he was visibly trembling, arousal shooting up the more Cyclonus spoke.

 

'I-uh, I don't know? Just-'

 

' **Put your lessons to good use**.' The low voice had Tailgate moaning as he tried to collect his thoughts, trying to remember what he'd learned of the old language from the lessons he'd managed to coax from his room mate.

 

'I- **I mean, I don't know? It just feels really good, like uh… Shooting through my spark?** '

 

 **'And what about if I told you, I was going to ravish you, pound you into the berth until you screamed? How does it feels then?** ' Cyclonus got his answer in the form of a full body shudder and long moan, Tailgate clenching at his helm whilst his optics flickered behind his visor. Smirking, Cyclonus moved his teasing servos down to the minibot's hips, ghosting over the interface array to feel that it was heating rapidly, lubricant already leaking from the seams in places. ' **Heh, so aroused already…'**

 

' **C-Cyclonus, please!** ' Tailgate was twitching, jerking his hips against the air and Cyclonus's drifting digits in an attempt to get more stimulation. ' **I-oh primus, I need you!** ' It was almost ridiculous just how quickly some words had Tailgate losing control of himself, already aching for more of the larger mech. Another ghosting touch over his array had the minibot's covers shooting open, small spike jutting out while lubricants dripped down his aft to the berth, and Tailgate whined when a sharp claw teased around his valve rim, but didn't penetrate.

 

The low whine turned to a loud whimper when Cyclonus pulled back entirely, and Tailgate sat up to try and trail after him, stopped when large servos grabbed his waist and prompted him to roll over.

 

 **'Turn over. I'm going to pin you, frag your tight little valve until you can no longer even think.** ' Tailgate didn't need telling twice, quickly rolling to his knees, helm and lower body resting on the berth whilst he looked back to Cyclonus out of the side of his visor. Humming in approval, the larger mech just sat back to gaze at the minibot; when he realised Cyclonus was happy to sit and stare, Tailgate spread his legs a little, moving a servo back to stroke his own aft, trying to encourage the large mech to take him.

 

' **P-please, take me! I'm aching for you, please…** ' And he really was, burning and wanting, and he could feel his valve twitching down, and he moaned and wriggled at the thought that Cyclonus could see it, clenching down on the empty air as it ached to be filled. His efforts were rewarded with large servos spreading and kneading his aft and thighs, both thumb-digits pushing in to spread and toy with his valve. It wasn't enough though, and he pushed back, trying to force the digits deeper much to Cyclonus' amusement.

 

 **'So needy for me.** ' A whimper from Tailgate and Cyclonus pushed in two digits, the valve still stretched enough format he night before that he didn't have to go through as much prep as usual. ' **Don't worry, I won't leave you wanting**.' True to his word he began to thrust his digits, kneading Tailgate's aft with his other servo while he twisted and stroked with the other, scissoring to ensure the callipers and lining were adjusting to allow for his spike later. Below him, the minibot was moaning and clutching at the berth in front of his lowered helm, and what Cyclonus could see of his visor was dim in pleasure. The sight and feel of it all had Cyclonus' spike panel clicking open, the spike itself rising proudly into the air as he continued to thrust and scrape his claws into the tight valve.

 

' **C-Cyclonus, more! Please, more…** ' Both mechs were surprised that Tailgate could form the sentence without dissolving into static, though Cyclonus took it as a challenge for later.

 

' **Of course, _Tailgate_.** ' The growl of his name caused a particularly pleasant shock through Tailgate's spark.

 

Upping his tempo, it didn't take much work before Cyclonus could fit three, then four long digits in, feeling the charge skittering along his servo as the worked the moaning minibot below him. He could feel the minibot ready was almost approaching overload, valve spasming and clenching erratically, and it was to a dismayed wail that he withdrew his digits, spreading the lubricant which had collected over the head of his spike, judging that Tailgate was finally prepared enough.

 

 **'Talk to me, tell me everything you feel.'**  And with that Cyclonus was pushing against the valve rim, using his thumb-digits to help spread it to allow the spike head to slip past the tight opening. A crackle of static was all that Tailgate was able to utter, until he set his vocaliser a couple of times in order to babble out words of praise and try to describe his bliss.

 

 **'F-frag! S-So big, so good! I-it kind of hurts, but it still feels s-so -** oh primus **\- so good, so huge, so amazing, you're amazing, please!'**  When Cyclonus had slipped in enough that there'd be no more problems, he removed his digits from the valve, savouring the image of it stretched so tight around his spike before he lent over the minibot, fully encompassing him with his frame and pulling the small servos to his own to interlace and massage their digits together.

 

After a pause of listening to Tailgate's nonsensical mumblings, he squeezed the servos in his grip, warning the minibot before he thrust sharply forward, seating himself fully inside the unbelievably tight valve, purring at the sound of the loud cry from the mech under him.

 

He quickly set up a pace, relishing in the cries of pleasure he was able to bring from the smaller mech, though vaguely amused at the whines when he slowed down, keeping his companion right on the edge of overload for as long as possible.

 

' **You feel so good, so unbelievably tight, and it pleases me when you scream and moan like this, at the pleasure I give you.'**  His words had Tailgate clenching harder at his servos, overload creeping up and threatening to wash over him.  **'Scream for me, let everyone on the ship know that you're mine.'**  He picked up the pace again, concentrating on hitting the small cluster of nodes in a particular place towards the back on the minibot's valve, striking it over and over again, until Tailgate was literally screaming his release, shuddering and sobbing below him.

 

The tight rhythmic clenching was all Cyclonus needed to let go and grunt in his own overload, hips jerking in place as he filled up the tight valve with his transfluid, strangely pleased when the fluid forced it's way out to drip and run down their thighs.

 

Tailgate's scream trailed off into low, shaky moans, whole body still twitching in aftershocks as he came back to himself. He didn't really want to move yet, but the large intrusion in his valve was suddenly uncomfortable post-overload, and he tried twitching his hips slightly to ask Cyclonus to move, doubtful he could speak properly yet. Obligingly, Cyclonus carefully pulled out, causing mixed fluids to splatter to the berth, and his small servos were released when the large mech collapsed beside him. Going to move himself, Tailgate squeaked when he was pulled over, his back to Cyclonus's chest as he was hugged and stroked, the other nuzzling at his helm.

 

Yeah, the crew would definitely glitch if they saw this.

 

Still, the affection was definitely nice, and Tailgate relaxed into the other's strong hold, happy to enjoy the out-of-character snuggling until they both decided they needed to clean up. Though they had a whole day to enjoy each other's company, so they should probably get as dirty as possible before making the trip to the wash racks, a thought he voiced to Cyclonus only to received a please rumble in return.


End file.
